Avenging Angel
by Ticklesivory
Summary: Obidala. While on Tatooine, ObiWan comes face to face with what he considers his biggest failure.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One **

Senator Amidala was dead. Her body being taken through the Palace Plaza, down the main thoroughfare of Theed, underneath the Triumphal Arch, toward the mausoleum which housed the bodies of all the past Queens of Naboo. There she would rest and there would she remain.

And it was all his fault.

The guilt of this particular failed responsibility weighed heavily upon Obi-Wan Kenobi's mind, but he kept it hidden. Buried his personal burden just as he had been burying his attachment to the beautiful young woman for the past fifteen years.

Perhaps it would drive him insane with despair. If so, he deserved it.

At the time, he hadn't had a choice, had he? He was a Jedi Master. He wasn't allowed to love. Not romantically anyway. Not allowed to pursue the passion that burned within his heart. Instead, he chose to confine his feelings in a stuffy, small container labeled friendship.

Just a few years ago, before Anakin, she had wanted more, and he had denied her of it. What she had desired, it simply wasn't allowed.

Apparently, however, his apprentice had gone where the Master feared to tread. His own Padawan had taken Padme into his arms, and into his bed. He had married her in secret and fathered her children. What hurt the most though, was the fact he had taken her away from him. Forever. 

Even knowing that and suffering the pain of such loss, Obi-Wan couldn't bring himself to kill his student. At least in that instance, love had prevailed.

Why had he not done the same for Padme? He had allowed her to suffer. If he had forsaken his vows, pursued his dreams, would she still be alive? Would Anakin have even turned?

The questions had no answers and Obi-Wan struggled to clear his mind of the endless string of doubts, pushed aside his guilt and grief, just in case the Jedi Master seated close by could read the turbulent emotions raging inside him.

Master Yoda could always see right through him it seemed, and apparently his improved shielding and knowledge of the Force did little to protect him. The large, green eyes looked upon him sympathetically. Very similar to the expression upon the Senator of Alderaan's face. Bail Organa also bore a remarkable amount of forbearance and understanding.

Well, he didn't need their pity. He had enough to deal with already.

"Focus upon there here and now." His Master, Qui-Gon Jinn had told him again and again. It was a lesson that was difficult to learn, much less put into practice. Obi-Wan had been given the gift of prescience, although it seemed that the older he got, his focus was more on the past. Especially now. However, he knew that dwelling in the present and looking forward to the future was what he must do if he were to survive.

If Padme's children were to survive.

"What about the boy?" His voice sounded pained, though he tried to hide it.

"To Tatooine, to his family you must take him. Watch over him, you will." 

"Yes, Master." It was the least he could do. 

Obi-Wan rose to leave the presence of the ancient Jedi and the Senator, pausing only for a second when Yoda requested that Bail Organa stay. That was fine. He needed some time to be alone, to take refuge in his private cabin, and in the Force.

With each passing year, the distance between Obi-Wan and Padme's son, Luke, grew. By not only a physical distance alone. The foster parents of the child did not want a Jedi influencing the boy, filling his head with fantastical tales of adventure and danger.

"Luke is going to be a farmer." Owen Lars had told him during Obi-Wan's final visit. "You are no longer welcome here." 

Thus began his solitary and lonely existence in the outskirts of the Tatooine desert, far out beyond the Dune Sea, where only the banthas and nomadic Tusken raiders roamed. Occasionally, he would set up camp on a ridge that overlooked the Lars farm, using his electrobinoculars to spy on the lad, but he never approached him. 

On those days though, when the sand seeped into his sanity and the only conversation was between his deceased Master or himself, the need to be around other sentient beings outweighed all else, and Obi-Wan would venture into the nearest town of Mos Eisley, where he would sit quietly in the corner of the local cantina, slowly sipping a drink whose flavor and texture resembled the red motor oil the pod racers used, but mostly to listen to the conversations floating around him.

He soon came to be known as the strange hermit from the dunes. Nobody spoke to him, nobody bothered him. Which was fine with Obi-Wan. He wasn't looking for companionship, and the less noticed he was, the better.

However, Obi-Wan noticed. Everything and everybody. He knew the regulars, recognized the travelers, listened to the space pilots tell the news of the Galaxy. Often, he would hear about his wayward apprentice, how he and the Emperor were slowly gaining control over every single free system left in the Republic. It was as he had feared. Democracy had died. 

Finishing just enough of his drink to maintain his sobriety, Obi-Wan left the cantina, keeping his appearance as well as his identity a secret by wrapping the simple brown cloak he had adopted a while back around his body, the hood drawn close to conceal his face. 

Obi-Wan always tried his best to return to his simple dwelling before dusk -- before the nocturnal desert creatures emerged from their hiding places. He hurried out of town, knowing that he had time to spare.

That is, until he felt a tug upon his consciousness. The Force drew his attention to a shadowy figure who lingered next to a food vendor's shop already closed for the day. It was a petite, female figure wrapped in layers of sheer, black cloth, similar to what he would expect someone who was in mourning to wear. Over her head was a matching veil, which concealed her face. 

Through the Force, Obi-Wan could sense her grief and loneliness, similar to his own emotional state, and he was drawn to her. However, the closer he got, the further she backed away, until the woman completely disappeared from sight.

Obi-Wan jogged the short distance to where the humanoid had vanished, only to be disappointed that he could discover no trace of her. Not in the darkening alley between the shops, nor in the open sandy street behind him.

Perhaps he had had too much to drink tonight, or perhaps he was truly going mad. He was sure there had been someone here, but he didn't have time to investigate. The twins suns of Tatooine had begun their descent beneath the horizon. To make it home before darkness fell, he would have to hurry, and honestly, he didn't feel much like running.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two **

Obi-Wan believed in ghosts. He spoke with one nearly every day, but even Qui-Gon could not solve the mystery of what had been happening over the past ten.

He had seen the stranger again. One morning, quite a distance from his home, her silhouette shadowing the sand before the rising suns. Obi-Wan had taken two steps toward the ridge on which his home stood, focused upon her position, and then cursed his clumsiness as a misstep took him tumbling over the edge. He cushioned his slide down the rocky slope with an ample use of the Force, but still landed on the desert plain below quite heavily, cursing some more as he spat sand out of his mouth and swiped at the cloud of dust that had gathered before his eyes.

Needless to say, by the time the particles had settled, the figure was gone. 

That is, if she had been there in the first place. Once again, he could find no trace of her.

And then there were the dreams.

Dark, hollow eyes haunted his sleep, full of sorrow and regret. A wispy voice spoke his name, apologetic, but also full of the pity he detested. A pale hand would caress his cheek just before a bright light would fill his vision, and then nothing. No sensation, no emotion. Although, there was no pain, Obi-Wan would wake with a jerk, sweating profusely and leap up from his bed, testing the sinewy strength of his muscles, the flexibility of his joints.

The visions were disturbing and so far, Qui-Gon had not been able to help him interpret their meaning. They had recurred for several nights in a row, but then suddenly stopped.

However, just when Obi-Wan was beginning to doubt the significance of them, another occurred -- this one more disturbing than all the rest. The vision itself was similar, although it seemed to him to be much more realistic. It was what Obi-Wan discovered upon waking that was discomfiting.

Footprints.

A trail of them upon the dusty floor of his hut. One set leading in, one set leading out. No bigger than a child's or a petite woman's.

This was no ghost. This was someone made of flesh and blood, who had the ability to appear and disappear almost magically; to sneak into a Jedi Master's home without alerting him to their presence.

He had sensed no threat or evil intentions before, but her abilities warned Obi-Wan that she was perhaps trained in stealth observation and no telling what else.

But was she friend or foe?

Of one thing, Obi-Wan was certain. He would need to improve his defenses until he found out.

Over the days that followed, all of Obi-Wan' time and effort were spent in attempting to discover the woman's identity. She had become his obsession. A dangerous one at that. He was risking discovery of his own identity in the process, but he had to find out who she was and what she was up to.

He had come up empty-handed in Mos Eisley. Not one shopkeeper or vendor had seen her or knew who she was. Most of them cast him looks revealing they were questioning his own sanity. Good. At least his reputation was safe.

After one venture into the space port, which offered no information, Obi-Wan took the southern ridge home, passing the Lars farm on the way. He stopped just above where his campsite was usually located and folded down upon his knees.

What had he been thinking? His mission on Tatooine was clear, and it wasn't to trail and identify this lone woman, it was to protect Padmé's son, and he had been neglecting it. It was time to put aside this distraction and focus on the reason why he was here.

The portable tent that he had set up was large enough for just one being, but it was enough to suit his needs. It was suitable for the daytime heat and made of material that would camouflage his presence in the desert. A few protein bars, dried fruit, several canteens of water, and electrobinoculars, Obi-Wan was prepared for a several-day stay upon the rocky promontory several meters from the Lars homestead. From this vantage point, he could watch their daily activities and catch occasional glimpses of Luke, who would now be nearing his sixth year.

Obi-Wan arranged the flap on the front of the tent and settled inside to get out of the glare of the suns. With the observation of the occupants of the moisture farm below, and the occasional visit from his old Master, he found that the time he spent on the ridge was quite tolerable. Not much worse than staying in his home.

He awoke the next morning with an empty stomach and a full bladder, rolling over to open the flap, and picking up his binoculars by habit, took a quick glance to the domed structures that comprised the Lars farm, gasping as he did so. 

Quickly crawling out the tent for a better look, Obi-Wan knelt upon the sandy soil and studied the area once more.

"Sith! Are those people stupid or what?"

It was well known that the sandpeople roamed the desert during the evening and early morning hours, but there standing next to the entrance of the home's main structure was young Luke. He appeared to be scratching in the sand with a metal rod of some sort.

Obi-Wan was contemplating whether or not to rush down and across the plain to scold the boy, along with his aunt and uncle, about the dangers of coming out into the open during such an hour, when he spied the appearance of another. A petite figure dressed in black.

He adjusted his field glasses and then slowly dropped them to the sand.

Not only was he a failure, but a fool. It was obvious now what she was doing, why she was here. All this time, she had been watching Obi-Wan, learning his routines, so that she would have the opportunity to approach the boy.

A Sith operative. It made perfect sense now. It would explain her abilities, as well as her presence. She had to know who he was, and apparently knew that Luke was Anakin's son.

Touching the lightsaber which hung underneath his cloak, Obi-Wan summoned the Force, which shone his path bright and clear. Perhaps he wasn't too late.

With enhanced speed, he leapt off the ridge, rolling upon landing, and then ran across the desert sands. He was a blur to the eye, but so was his destination. While he ran, Obi-Wan watched her. She timidly approached the lad, but hadn't made a move to abduct him yet. 

Crossing behind the home, Obi-Wan came to a stop, using the Force to call forth a small sandstorm to hide his trail, and cautiously stepped forward.

He could see the back of her as she knelt down in front of the boy, handing him a gift, obviously trying to earn his trust before she took him.

Just a few more steps, and she would be within his reach, but just as Obi-Wan neared, the woman's body stiffened and she stood up.

"Go inside, Luke."

The voice rang familiar in his head, stopping Obi-Wan dead in his tracks. He argued the impossibility of it, convinced himself that his ears were playing tricks on him.

But his eyesight was clear, and the woman who had turned and was standing just before him was the one person whom he thought he would never see again.

"Padmé? Is that you?"

It is a surreal experience when a Jedi's vision comes to fruition. Time seems to stand still.

Obi-Wan was gazing into the same hollow eyes he had seen on numerous occasions over the past several days, but he was too stunned to make the connection. Too shocked to prepare for what he should've known was coming.

A sad smile, a graceful step forward, a delicate kiss to his mouth, and then the tender caress of her hand along his temple preceded the bolt of bright light that nearly drowned out her apology as he slumped unconscious to the ground.

"I'm sorry Obi-Wan, but I have to do this." 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three **

The light in his eyes was coming from an outside source this time, not as intense as before, but the same white glow. This light, however, moved in and out of Obi-Wan's field of vision. A quick flick past his left retina, followed by another across his right. He blinked in annoyance at the fingers forcing his lids open, and then glanced into the wrinkled, leathery face of the sole medic in town.

"No hemorrhaging or petechia, no signs of trauma." The elderly man explained to the others in the room, but not to Obi-Wan himself. Lowering his line of sight, the Jedi could see Owen and Beru Lars, and then realized he was inside their home.

"Other than the small abrasion on his temple, I don't see what could be causing his paralysis although I can't rule out a mild stroke." 

_Paralysis!?_

"Could a weapon of some sort cause this?" Obi-Wan heard Beru ask. 

"Nothing that I've heard about, but with the Emperor in control, there's been a lot of technological fancies invented. Why, I even hear they're building a space station, which can blow up an entire planet." Obi-Wan noted the doctor's huff of sarcasm, but he had heard the rumor from some of the space pilots who had dropped by the cantina, and he couldn't discredit it.

"Do you know anything about the patient?" The physician asked, keying on a datapad he brought from his case.

"Not really." Owen replied. "About as much as anybody else around here. He's just some drifter who lives out by the Dune Sea. I think his name is Ben. We found him out in the desert, just like this."

"Yeah, I've seen him around town. Pretty much keeps to himself. Probably got into some trouble someplace and is out here hiding."

"I wouldn't know." Owen answered back convincingly, and Obi-Wan relaxed. Let the Lars explain his presence. The less he said, the better.

The old man packed away his equipment and pulled the scratchy blanket further up on Obi-Wan's chest.

"I think time is all he needs. Hopefully, this will pass. Send for me if he worsens."

Obi-Wan listened as the medic left, alarmed that he was unable to turn his head to watch him go. In fact, there was no response to any command involving any part of his body.

What had she done to him?

Voices soon infiltrated the quiet space where Obi-Wan lay, and he recognized them as belonging to the owners of the farm.

_"As soon as he can walk, he leaves." _

_"Owen, don't be cruel." _

_"I'm being realistic Beru! What was he doing here? I don't trust him. He probably came here to take Luke away from us." _

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to explain - to defend his actions, but upon doing so, discovered something else about his condition. Not only could he not move, he couldn't speak either.

_"Why would he take him from us, when Obi-Wan is the one who brought him here?"_

"You go ahead and think the best of everyone, but I'm telling you, Beru, I've got a bad feeling about this." 

The voices faded as the couple moved beyond Obi-Wan's audio range, leaving him alone with his turbulent thoughts.

Padmé was here, wasn't she? He had snuck up on her from the southeast ridge, had watched her speak with Luke, had looked into her eyes, felt the warmth of her touch and delighted in the press of her lips against his own.

She had kissed him. Obi-Wan's mind lingered on that thought, putting it aside for the moment for further study later.

However, along with her touch, had come total incapacitation. Whatever she had used on him, he hadn't seen coming, and it had completely immobilized him.

But why?

Obi-Wan continued to wage war inside his head, weighing each possibility, entertaining every explanation no matter how ridiculous, until weariness settled over him, and he allowed his eyelids to drift shut, succumbing to a fitful sleep.

When he awoke, another pair of eyes stared down at him. Only these were the clearest blue, and bore a resemblance to one whom he once called brother.

Luke continued to look upon him as Obi-Wan came fully awake, the previous questions and doubts of his prior wakened moments once again clouding his mind, confusing him, until he doubted the events themselves. 

What if he had imagined the entire thing? Maybe the physician was right. Maybe he had had a stroke. A heat stroke. It had been rather warm in the tent. Maybe, in his stupor, he had wandered down to see Luke and had passed out.

But then Luke spoke, wiping his mind clear of all confusion.

"My mom told me about you. She said I can trust you. Are you my father?"

Obi-Wan wanted to answer the boy, but his bodily functions were still unresponsive. The Jedi strained his eyes to look at Luke, noting the small white object strung on a long leather chain which the lad held in his hands. The gift that the woman in black had given him, which was none other than the necklace he could've sworn Padmé had held in her hands during her funeral.

The once-cherished object was the final piece of evidence that proved to Obi-Wan that Padmé was indeed alive.

And that Master Yoda had some explaining to do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four **

It had taken two more days to regain his movement and speech, and after thanking the Lars for their hospitality, Obi-Wan immediately returned to town.

Transgalactic communication was expensive on Tatooine, the industry controlled by the Hutts, but Obi-Wan had no choice but to spend the majority of the credits he had in his possession for the holofeed. He had to contact Bail Organa on Alderaan, to try and get some answers.

Yoda had gone to Dabogah and was not reachable, but the Jedi Master and Senator Organa had much to say following their meeting on board Padmé's ship the day of the her funeral. He was hoping that Bail could tell him what was going on.

Obi-Wan paid his fee to the attendant in the communications office, receiving a slight smirk when he gave her the coordinates to the Alderaanian Palace. If need be, he would wipe her memory of the event later.

At first, the transmission was accepted by a secretary, who was kind enough to immediately forward the communication to the Prince's private office. Within just a few klicks, the representative glimmered blue in the square cubicle Obi-Wan had chosen.

The message was filled with static, but he could see and hear Bail. He just hoped Bail could hear him. 

"Ben, this is quite a surprise. I…hadn't expected to hear from you."

Obi-Wan checked over his shoulder, throwing up some Force shielding around the conversation, to ward off any unwanted eavesdropping.

"I know about Padmé. Bail, what's going on? She's here on Tatooine. I saw her. She spoke to Luke."

"Damn." Bail muttered into his raised hand, looking down as if speaking to no one but himself. "I told Yoda she wasn't ready. This was a bad idea."

"I need to know. What happened? Where has she been and why is she here?" 

"I can't answer your questions." The kindly Senator looked genuinely sorry for his reply and Obi-Wan's distress, but the Jedi wasn't accepting the unspoken apology.

"I swear, if you don't tell me, I'm hopping the first freighter on its way to your sector, and our next conversation won't be nearly as pleasant." 

Bail raised an eyebrow at Obi-Wan's words, knowing full well his old friend was incapable of carrying out such a threat. It wasn't in the man's nature.

"Bail, I'm serious!"

Another swipe of a hand went across the Senator's face. "When I said I couldn't tell you, I meant it. I don't have all the answers. I'm aware of the situation, but not the details of it. For those, you're going to have to talk to someone else."

Obi-Wan watched with mild confusion as the senator leaned out of the viewing area, and listened to his somewhat muffled voice as he contacted his secretary.

"Lana? I need you to get a hold of Master Yoda and tell him to meet me in my office, as quickly as he can." 

"What? You mean to tell me that Master Yoda is not on Dagobah? Exactly how many lies have I believed all this time?" 

"I was not in the position to tell you the truth, Obi-Wan. Perhaps it's best that you've contacted me so that you will finally understand. I've been worried about you. How's Tatooine?" 

Obi-Wan knew that Bail was stalling, but he didn't much feel like discussing the weather. He remained silent, watching the digital timekeeper next to the comm controls. He only had 10 more minutes before the transmission ended.

Thankfully, he could soon hear the grumbling voice of the ancient master as he hobbled into the senator's office. He then watched as Bail gave up his seat, and Yoda levitated himself into it.

"Good to see you, it is." Yoda greeted him with a smile, an expression that Obi-Wan found he couldn't return.

"I don't have time for friendly greetings, Master. Why did you lie to me?"

"Necessary, it was. Too close you had become. An attachment there was, yes?" 

What? What was he talking about? "An attachment to who?" 

"Senator Amidala, a smart, brave young woman she is. Easy to love. Your emotions, interfered they would have. A mission she has to perform. Unfortunate it is, that distracted by a visit to Tatooine she was."

"A mission? What sort of mission? And what kind of weapon does she possess that can render someone completely immobile for three days? Why would she need to possess such a thing?"

The Jedi Master inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and reopening them slowly before he spoke. 

"Answers to these questions, you do not need to know. Acting on the behalf of the Jedi and the Galaxy, Padmé is. Interfere, you should not."

"Anakin." Obi-Wan murmured in realization. "She's going after Anakin. How could you do that? He's dangerous! Hasn't she suffered enough already?" 

"Her idea, this was. A stubborn woman, she is." 

Yoda's attempt at comedy fell flat as Obi-Wan felt anger and frustration mounting within himself.

"I won't allow this." He voiced vehemently, bracing his hands upon the station's desktop and leaning forward to glare at the Jedi's holographic face. "And both of you can go to hell if you try to stop me."

With that said, the transmission blacked out and Bail Organa looked to Yoda with a skeptical eye.

"I don't think Tatooine has been treating him well." 


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five **

Transgalactic communication was expensive, especially by holofeed, but it had been worth it to see Yoda's face when he had threatened him. The old troll deserved the disrespect for once. What had the ancient Master been thinking? It was obvious he and Senator Organa had been hiding Padmé all this time, and her current abilities only meant one thing. Yoda had trained her, most likely in observation, evacuation, and self defense techniques. And the weapon. It was difficult to believe that Senator Organa had provided Padmé with such a thing. Alderaan was supposed to be a peaceful society. Free of weaponry. How else would she have acquired such technology?

Obi-Wan had seen nothing in her hand. Only on it. Her left ring finger was encircled with a solid band. That single piece of jewelry must have been the source of her neurological armament. Activated by touch, it meant that Padmé had to get close enough to her victim to use it. Which meant, in order to incapacitate Darth Vader, she would have to touch him. Make contact with his skin.

The problem was, according to the last space pilot report Obi-Wan had heard, Darth Vader was encased in armor - from head to toe.

Her plan wouldn't work. Padmé was once more putting her life in grave danger.

The revealing conversation also explained why the Tatooine space port authority had no record of her comings and goings. Alderaan being one of the affluent planets in the galaxy, the Prince had probably provided Padmé with one of his personal vehicles. More than likely, a yacht. Complete with private suites, bathing facilities, and a droid-attended galley.

Obi-Wan cringed as he stood in his hovel, recounting the credits in his possession. Just a couple of thousand left. That would buy him hyperspace travel, but only by freighter or barge. Which meant, no galley, no accessible water, and crowds of sweaty, smelly civilians. 

It was a five-day journey from Tatooine to the Core. He would have to gather all of his personal belongings for the voyage. A trip, which Obi-Wan was not looking forward to.

As he packed his duffel, the image of his Master appeared in the arched doorway of his bedroom, almost as if the Force ghost had read his thoughts.

"We've traveled on much worse with far less." Qui-Gon reminded him. 

"I know. But it's been a while. I guess I've gotten soft." Obi-Wan latched the bag closed and moved to the kitchen to pack his supplies.

"What about the boy?" 

Guarding Luke was his duty. Obi-Wan had always put duty first. Always. But this was the one time he was going to make an exception. He had to. Qui-Gon wasn't going to understand.

"I figured the biggest threat to Luke is Vader, and I'm going to be where Vader is, so…" He left off, hoping his Master would catch on.

"You're putting yourself in the path of great danger, Padawan."

"No more than…" He wanted to say her name, to make him see, but even in the After Life, Qui-Gon was the quintessential Jedi. Holding onto the morals and ethics of the Jedi Code, even though they were quickly becoming as extinct as the Jedi themselves.

"I have to finish this." He stated instead, twisting his motive into something much more personal.

However, his Master didn't buy it.

"You've allowed your personal feelings to interfere before, Obi-Wan. I had thought you had already learned that lesson. Your guidance should be the Force, not this emotional attachment you've allowed to take over your mind."

"My heart, Qui-Gon. There's a difference." The younger man voiced strongly, initially perturbed that Qui-Gon had brought up something that happened over twenty years ago, shouldering his duffel after securing it closed. 

"Have you meditated about this?"

"Have you?" Obi-Wan shot back, immediately regretting his choice of words and tone of voice. "I've tried, Master, but everything's so clouded. I have to do this. Please accept it."

Silence passed between them, but Obi-Wan could not help but notice the hard lines of disagreement on Qui-Gon's face.

"You do this, you will do it alone. I cannot help you."

No reply was needed, but his mind was made up. He understood the danger. He was going back to Coruscant. Into the Core, where he had heard the bounty on any living Jedi had risen to 50,000.

But the danger was no greater than that which Padmé faced, and this time, she wasn't going to face it alone. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six **

Obi-Wan had managed to maneuver his way to the side of the ship to peer out the long viewport strip that was about eye level on board the freighter that was carrying him to the capital of the new Empire. From his vantage point, Coruscant looked basically the same as it always had. Too much pollution, too much traffic, too many buildings. He hadn't missed it.

As the ship made its way through the atmosphere, his view changed to reveal the remnants of the Temple, and at first, Obi-Wan cast his eyes down. He really didn't wish to see it, but was soon overcome with curiosity and beheld the abandoned and burned building that had been his home for more than thirty years.

Much to his surprise, the structure was still standing, and not only that, it appeared to be in a state of refurbishment. Scaffolding and construction workers milled about the outside of the building. He caught a quick glance at a few of them before the ship moved to dock and his view was blocked. But it was enough time to recognize the unisuits that the Temple workers wore were the same as many of those who were on board the freighter with him.

Up until this point, he had kept his distance from the passengers. He had not entered into any sort of conversation, but as the crowd began to disperse and make their way toward the exit, he stopped one young being, a Dressellian male.

"Your uniform, are you all working on the Temple?"

"Yeah," The young male replied, seemingly in a hurry to stay with the group. "The Emperor wants it fixed and he's paying a bundle for workers. If you want in, you'll have to hurry."

"Who's your foreman?"

Before the freighter had emptied, Obi-Wan had managed not only to speak with the head of the construction crew, but to get hired and receive a dark blue unisuit of his own. He changed into it quickly, stuffing his plain gray cloak, tunics, boots, and lightsaber into his duffel.

The workers had gathered at the bottom of the loading platform to receive their orders, which were to report to the lead foreman at the construction site at 1300 hours. They would all be housed in tents at the site and provided meals there as well. Although Obi-Wan was sick of the ration bars he had brought along with him, he had no intention on joining the workers there. He would follow them as long as he could, but his destination lay elsewhere.

The blue clothed throng moved along the docking station, following their leader to a public transport, which would take them to the job site, but Obi-Wan took the opportunity to conceal his exit behind a nearby building. He waited for the transport loaded with workers to leave before searching out another for himself. One that was heading to Coco Town. 

The matching blue cap pulled down nearly over his eyes, as well as the dirty blue unisuit he wore was apparently disguise enough for the Jedi as he moved throughout the crowded streets of Coco Town. No one recognized him. However, upon entry through the back door of Dexter's Diner, the shocked look upon the owner's face revealed that Obi-Wan's identity wasn't as secret as he had hoped.

"Obi-Wan! It is so good to see you my friend! I thought you were dead." 

Before he could respond, Obi-Wan found himself smothered in an exuberant hug, the Besalisk's four arms wrapping tightly about him.

"Coruscant is no place for you." The resturantar said upon releasing him. "What are you doing here?" 

"I need your help Dex. I've followed a woman here who's about to do something extremely stupid. I have to stop her." 

"A woman, eh?" A deep laugh rumbled up through the large body. "Come with me. It's not safe for you up here." 

Obi-Wan followed Dexter into the storage room of his restaurant without question. He and the Besalisk went way back, having been friends since Obi-Wan's Padawan days. He trusted the being implicitly. But when Dex moved a cooling unit to one side and exposed a hidden door through which his huge body disappeared as it went down a dark ladder, questions began to fill his mind.

"Where are we going?"

"Trust me, my friend. There are others down here who can help you. Better than I can."

Others? Obi-Wan saved the rest of his questions for later as he adjusted his bag and followed his friend down into a dark, damp tunnel.

They walked for what seemed like an hour, their steps angling downward for most of the trek, passing by abandoned warehouses and loading stations, equipment rusted and no longer functioning sitting idly by, staring as they passed, like great tombstones in a forgotten graveyard.

"These are the old sublevel transport stations." Obi-Wan noted. He had never been this far down below the surface, but had known they existed.

"Yes." Dex rumbled back. "It's been years since they've been used. Not since traffic went to the sky."

Cobwebs strung across his face as they walked, and Obi-Wan swiped at them with his free hand. They stepped across gaps in the duracrete and through passageways so dark, he couldn't see the rodents that his ears had detected scrambling across their path, but suddenly the walkway opened up into a large oval room with a skylight far above them, allowing enough illumination to take a look around.

"This is sublevel station B. We're several meters below surface. This is where they hide."

"Who?" Obi-Wan finally asked his most pertinent question. Who would hide themselves down here amongst the vermin and darkness? Who would have the need to other than himself?

"The Erased." A voice spoke suddenly behind him, and Obi-Wan spun around in surprise to see an attractive female approximately his age or slightly younger, with dark red hair and bright green eyes, dressed in clothing typical for a Coruscant industrial worker except for the variety of weaponry she wore. A dual blaster hung from her hip, a vibroshiv from her belt, and another tucked into her boot.

His first impression of the woman was that she was a leader of some sort, and that she was dangerous. But Dexter trusted her, and so Obi-Wan would as well, that is, until she announced a greeting that surprised him as much as her appearance had.

"General Obi-Wan Kenobi, welcome to our home." 


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

A hand swept up and over his chin out of a long-established habit, though there wasn't much there to rub or pull on. Obi-Wan had chosen to scrape his face clear of the graying beard which he thought would distinguish him amongst Coruscant civilians, and so he was surprised when the young warrior before him recognized his features.

She obviously recognized his surprise as well.

"It's the eyes." She told him nonchalantly. "Thanks Dex for bringing him down. We'll take good care of him."

The large being hesitated before clasping his huge hand over Obi-Wan's shoulder. "He's a good friend. I expect no less."

"No harm will come to him I assure you." The woman stated firmly with a smile just before Obi-Wan's shoulder was clapped twice and Dexter lumbered away.

"And Dex?" She called out before he disappeared from sight. "Next time, don't overcook the bantha. That last strip was like chewing on my boot." 

"Ungrateful..." Obi-Wan heard the rumbling voice as the big body vanished into the darkness, turning his attention back toward his hostess.

"Morah Vrax, at your service. You've shown up at a most opportune moment, General Kenobi." 

"Obi-Wan." The Jedi insisted, most desirous to put the memories of the Clone Wars behind him. "And how did you...?" 

"Know who you were? I told you. The eyes are a dead give-away. Perhaps you should've invested in some lenses."

The red-headed female led Obi-Wan across the single-railed track before stepping up onto a platform on the other side. "The scowl was also a hint." She smiled broadly as she turned sideways to glance at him.

She seemed familiar in a way, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Where had he seen her before? She appeared to be an operative of some sort, or perhaps a security official.

"I can hear those wheels turning. Let me put your mind at rest. I'm the daughter of Senator Vrax of Mandalore. My father was assassinated by the Emperor's thugs when he took a stand against their attempts to legalize slavery back home. The Emperor declared it would put an end to the poverty that was ravishing our planet, but my father was against it. He formed an alliance with several other senators and was murdered. That was five years ago. I've been rallying support ever since."

"A rebellion?"

"Not hardly. Just a small group of survivors who don't like the way the new empire is being run."

"Survivors?" Obi-Wan was listening intently, but he was also watching where Morah was taking him. The Force was clouded, even more so now that he was so close to the source of the darkness that swallowed the light, but he still could not help be a bit suspicious about his guide. Perhaps he had been in the desert too long.

"Those who have ever dared take a stand against the Emperor and his henchman, failed to turn over those with a bounty on their heads, to 'cleanse the Galaxy,' so we were told. We gathered below to offer them sanctuary, since there's no place for them to go. Their identifications have been wiped, their bank accounts emptied. They have no credits and no access to any. Their businesses have been confiscated and their families either put to death or put into prison. They hide here, without anyone knowing of their existence, past or present. Basically, they have been erased from society. There are those above who help us, like Dex, who provide nourishment, medicine and weapons. Thank the stars, we haven't had any need for them yet."

"You seem to be well prepared." Obi-Wan noted, his eyes glancing down to the variety of weapons Morah wore on her body.

"Just a security precaution." She answered with a smile, turning the corner at the end of the causeway and pushing a coded sequence into a panel, which Obi-Wan memorized.

"And the others?" 

"Most of the others are here for security, but there are a few who are young and anxious to go out and get back some of what the Emperor has taken from us. That's where you come in."

"Me? I'm sorry, but I'm here on business. I have no intention of joining up with a rebellion. There's a young woman I need to find. She's in serious danger."

"Aren't we all?"

The door before them swished open to reveal a mass of people crowded into a room filled with metal tables and chairs. Dim lighting exposed groups who had been playing cards, drinking, or just talking, but upon his entrance, all eyes turned upon him. Quickly, Obi-Wan calculated approximately 100 beings in the room, from different species and different walks of life. He recognized Senator Galfar from Zotha and smiled at him, an aid to the previous chancellor who had often visited the Temple, as well as a past CEO of Galactic City Financial. The others ranged from elderly to younglings, but all appeared pleased, if not surprised to see him.

Obi-Wan followed Morah across the room, accepting gracious pats on his back, handshakes, and returning smiles, but guilt began to gnaw at him that he was going to disappoint them all with his refusal to help them. He was here to find Padmé.

Slowly, his smile faded and the scowl returned, until a lean, salmon-colored figure emerged from the corner, her webbed fingers reaching out for him. 

"Obi-Wan?"

"Bant!"

He crushed his childhood friend in a powerful embrace, knocking his hat to the floor before shoving her backward to look at her.

"What happened? I thought you were in the Temple!"

"I was in the healer's wing when Anak...Vader came. The fires the clones set caused an explosion in the south hall. I was trapped and...blinded. There were so many dead, Obi. They thought I was too. I had gone into hibernation, until I heard people talking. There was a group of citizens looking for survivors. I was the only one they found."

Obi-Wan gazed through the dim lighting at his friend's large almond-shaped eyes to see clouded, unresponsive pupils, and part of his previous joy faded. "I'm so sorry." 

"There wasn't anything you could've done. He fooled us all, Obi-Wan. I'm just glad you're alive. I had heard the worst. Come sit down and have a bite to eat."

Morah Vrax watched the reunion of the two Jedi with an expression of happiness, as did the others who observed it as well. She moved back amongst her comrades and out into the open station, positioning herself in the circle of light upon the gray duracrete floor. Reaching down to her belt, she removed a small communicator and activated it with a blip.

"Fett here."

"This is Vrax. What's the current bounty on General Kenobi?"

"500,000. You know where he is?" 

"Let's talk first. I want fifty percent." 

"Thirty. Just because we're both Mandalorian, don't expect any favors." The gruff voice on the other end of the communication argued.

"Forty or you can forget it." 

"Deal."

"I'll contact you again with the details. Vrax out."

Morah pocketed her comm, glancing up into the darkening late afternoon sky visible through the sphere of dirty glass above. There was little remorse to her actions. 200,000 would be a great help to their efforts. With it, The Erased could purchase their own supplies, weapons, maybe even a starship or two. They would no longer have to rely upon outside help. Finally, they could get out of this stinking sewer and try to make a difference.

It may cost the life of one of the last and best Jedi, but what good could one Jedi do? Besides, the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"What brings you here?" Bant pulled Obi-Wan down to the metallic table and chairs in the corner as those in the room went back to their previous activities, just a few casting curious glances their direction.

"I'm tracking someone who's about to do something very dangerous. And under Master Yoda's direction." 

"Master Yoda? He survived? Where is he?" 

"Probably on Dagobah by now. He's been on Alderaan ever since...the Temple burned."

A clammy hand reached out to grasp onto Obi-Wan's and he clasped his friend's digits to warm them, soon discovering the comfort being offered was not necessarily for Bant.

"I sense great sadness in you."

Obi-Wan glanced up and into the non responsive gaze of the Calamarian. Bant had always been sympathetic and full of empathy for other beings, highly sensitive to their pain, which was why she made such an effective Healer. He wondered how much opportunity she had now to use her talents.

"Obi-Wan."

Patient persistence was another one of Bant's attributes, and Obi-Wan knew he wasn't going to be able to avoid her gentle probe.

"She was dead, Bant. I felt her passing. I was with her. She delivered her babies, spoke to me of...of Anakin. There's still good in him, she said."

The words came haltingly, softly-spoken, and the Jedi Healer recognized the pain in her friend's voice, a gurgling sigh fluttering her gills. "Do you believe that?"

It took a moment for Obi-Wan to answer. He knew what his apprentice had done. Had seen the younglings' massacred bodies with his own eyes. 

He had also heard the stories of Darth Vader and his quest to rid the Galaxy of everything that was good and of the Light. Using what he had taught him as his Master to manipulate and coerce others, to force them into obedience and loyalty to the Emperor.

Obi-Wan had always tried to maintain a positive attitude, but as time had worn on, the stories of his apprentice's dealings becoming more and more violent, it was difficult to keep his faith in the Force. Especially after Padmé had appeared.

Padmé Amidala had been the brightest star in the Senate, the one true activist for peace and justice in the Galaxy, who knew what her husband had become and still sought to see an opportunity that Obi-Wan was beginning to believe didn't exist.

Even she had given up hope. Had allowed her disappointment and anger turn to revenge. If she happened to succeed, Obi-Wan had the feeling that she would lose. She would lose something that could never be found again. 

"I...I don't know." He answered honestly. "I don't know anything, apparently. I don't even know when someone dies. Master Yoda must've intervened, or something. I can't explain it. For years, I...thought..I mean, I couldn't...it was difficult."

"You mourned her." Bant supplied the words that Obi-Wan seemed hesitant to say.

"Yes. I cared about her. I still do."

A small smile lifted the Calamarian's wide mouth.

"And I failed her. I made a promise to myself to protect her, and I didn't. And now, Padmé's on her way here to try to do what I couldn't. I have to stop her."

"I'm afraid you may already be too late." A strong male voice interrupted the friends' conversation as Obi-Wan spun around to greet a tall young man with shoulder-length black hair and eyes so pale they were almost white. 

It had been years, but he would know that face anywhere.

"Nate Kaldon." The Jedi rose, taking the proffered hand and shaking it warmly. "You still slaving for the Senate?"

"Yeah, but now I'm making them pay for it."

The two men shared a chuckle before Nate pulled over a chair, allowing them to take a seat next to Bant. "I'm one of Palpatine's advisors."

Obi-Wan couldn't hide his surprise, either for the fact that the man was still working in the Senate, having worked his way up as an apprentice legislator, or that he had actually accepted a position to assist the man responsible for mass galactic murder. "You're a double agent then."

"The Erased need information, and I have some for you, my friend. Senator Amidala is here. One of our helpers topside discovered her at the space port and brought her here for safety."

The young man barely had the chance to finish his sentence before Obi-Wan had bolted out of his seat, demanding details. "Where is she? How long has she been here? Has she spoken to anyone? Told you why she's here?"

"She mentioned going up-top when she got here, wanting to know the whereabouts of Darth Vader. He's been at the Rim for the past several tens overseeing the construction of a new battle station, but should be arriving some time today. Senator Amidala may have already left."

"How could you let her go?" The words came out laced with frustration.

"It's not our policy to keep beings against their will. This isn't a prison, Obi-Wan." Bant interjected, immediately calming the Jedi.

"Will you take me to her, please?" 

Obi-Wan saw her before she saw him. Agitatedly pacing a damp storage room. Her posture and actions were out of character for her, as were her looks.

He remembered long flowing, feminine gowns in colors of royalty, as well as elaborate hairstyles. What she wore today was a simple battlesuit, much like the one she wore when she came to Geonosis to try and rescue him, only this one reflected her loss of innocence.

She was covered in solid black. From her leather boots, to the band that pulled her shorter and straightened hair tightly away from her head. 

She was the picture of a warrior. Or a bounty hunter. Anxious and irritated. Stalking one way, and then turning and going another. 

She had her back to him when he walked into the area, quieting his footsteps with the Force. He didn't wish to startle her, but he was also testing her. To see how advanced her training was. 

"You may come in." He heard her quiet voice, the surprise of her notice raising a brow on his forehead.

However, his own surprise was as equal or surpassed upon her face.

"Obi-Wan, what…what are you doing here?"

"Thanks Nate." The Jedi Master met the pale gaze and smiled, excusing the young advisor from their presence.

Obi-Wan then approached her, taking note of the immediate defensive maneuver as Padmé backed away from him and placed herself on the opposite side of the table which sat in the middle of the room, nearly backing into the cot against the wall.

"You can't do this."

"Do what?"

Naivety was past, and suspicion was obviously present as Padmé made her way around the table to keep her distance.

"Kill Vader." He had to get to the point. There was no time for anything else. Padmé had never appreciated procrastination anyway.

"I can and I will. It's what I've been trained to do. For six years, Obi-Wan. I'm ready."

"I'm not saying you can't. I don't doubt that. What I'm saying is, you shouldn't."

"How can you say that! After what he's done? What's he's doing? Do you know he's supervising the construction of a weapon that can destroy an entire planet?"

"I'm aware of that." Obi-Wan attempted to get closer. If only he could touch her, maybe jar some sense into her. But Padmé kept distancing herself.

"Then how can you stand there and do nothing? He killed all those Jedi, he tried to kill me. He's going to try and kill my children." 

"How do you know that?"

"Master Yoda told me."

Something else to confront the ancient Jedi about. What was he thinking? Of all beings, Yoda understood about reading the future -- that it's always in motion, always shifting. Actions of the present affect those of the future. There was no way to determine what was to be.

"You can't know that for sure."

"I'm not taking any chances."

She was nearing the exit and Obi-Wan saw a flicker of her eyesight glance toward open doorway. He couldn't let her leave. Not just yet. He might not be able to change her mind, but he had to know something before she left.

She may be highly trained, but she didn't have the Force on her side.

Just as Obi-Wan detected the flexing of her muscles in preparation for her retreat, the Jedi called upon the power to aid his speed, and he blocked her path, reaching to grab onto her hand in case she decided to use the tiny, but most effective weapon against him once more.

"Don't take it off." Padmé pleaded as Obi-Wan grasped her fingers, staring at the simple object. "It contains heat sensors. Once removed, it's just a few klicks before it self destructs."

Obi-Wan gazed at the band of gold and was momentarily displaced in time by a vision. A similar situation where he held her hand, but instead of desiring to remove a piece of jewelry, he was placing one on her, and she was happily smiling up at him.

He shook his head free of the scene and slipped his hands up her arms, gripping the flesh of her forearms tightly.

"Let go of me."

"I'm not going to stop you. This is your decision. But before you go, tell me one thing."

He watched those dark orbs of brown shift from his own eyes to his mouth. In that moment Obi-Wan saw the confidence and steely resolve falter, and along with it came a spark of hope. He might not be able to reason with her mind, but perhaps he could speak to her heart. 

"What?"

"Why did you kiss me?" 

"I…." Once more Padmé's gaze floated away from his eyes and focused upon his lips and Obi-Wan leaned forward in small increments, stopping just a breath away from her face.

"I needed the distraction in order to get away."

A sly smile crept upon Obi-Wan's face, but she hadn't seen it. Padmé's gaze was again focused upon his eyes, and in it, Obi-Wan saw the truth, and he glorified in it.

"I think there was more to it than that."

She wasn't startled when he kissed her and seemed to fall into his arms, wrapping herself around his body, seeking closeness along every plane of him. Her body was willing, her mouth open, and Obi-Wan moaned into it, pressing her soft bosom against the hardened muscles of his chest.

He didn't try to hide the firm reaction to their shared intimacy, but pressed his erection wantonly into her stomach, immediately finding himself physically spun around by her hands and backed into the cot behind him.

Obi-Wan debated with his thoughts, arguing with himself that he wasn't taking advantage of her. He was searching for a reason. A justification of what he had to do. It appeared he had found it and now his path was clear.

Padmé wanted him as much as he wanted her, and with that knowledge, he made up his mind that she wouldn't do this alone.

The Force, it seemed, was determined to bring he and his apprentice together one last time. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine **

This newfound confidence was refreshing. All those hours of training finally paying off, Padmé humored herself.

She cared about Obi-Wan, quite a bit. She trusted him, but he was a Jedi through and through. He had never once stepped outside of the rigid path the Code had designed; never once suggested any interest in her romantically.

If he had, perhaps things would've turned out differently.

Dammit. She was neglecting Yoda's instructions again. He had taught her to focus upon the present, to not dwell upon failings and disappointments of the past. To concentrate only on positive emotions and control her anger.

He had told her she had a lot of it. She also had hate. But could he blame her? After all she had done, all the time she had spent pretending to be the good little wife, waiting in silent misery and loneliness while her husband ran all over the Galaxy. She had been gentle. She had been understanding and kind. And what had it gotten her?

Dammit. Once again, Padmé forced the memories from her mind, focusing upon the here and now, and right here, right now, she had Obi-Wan in her arms, and was in the process of peeling the blue unisuit he wore off his shoulders.

It didn't matter why he was here, although she suspected it was to save his apprentice.

It didn't matter what he thought she should do or not do. She knew what she had to do, and he wasn't going to try and stop her. He had said so himself. 

Vader wasn't due in the Senate building for another several hours. While she waited, she may as well satisfy her curiosity and finally see what lay underneath those layers of beige tunics all those years.

A muscular chest was revealed as she had expected, but along his sternum lay a concentration of coarse hair with just a slight amount of gray. Padmé took the opportunity to run her fingers through it, followed by her nose. Anakin didn't have any chest hair.

The blue material was pushed down with an aggressive touch. Down off strong arms, lean hips, and corded thighs.

She took the time to appreciate the masculinity before her, pulling her own attire quickly from her body. He was a virile, handsome man in every aspect with a thick, proud erection jutting up from coppery curls that matched those upon his chest. 

She had waited long enough. Patience had bought her nothing but heartache.

Before Obi-Wan could respond to her perusal, Padmé had dove down upon him, engulfing his cock in the heat of her mouth. He arched up with a hiss, pulling her hair free from its tie and digging his hands into it to guide her over him.

He had waited so long, and she was going too fast. But the pleasure of her tongue and palate upon his erection as she lifted and dropped her head onto his lap, soon warred with his common sense and he was soon responding to her ministrations with thrusts of his hips, and a tightened grip in her hair.

He was getting close and so Obi-Wan groaned in frustration when Padmé allowed his organ to pop free from her mouth.

No sooner had the Jedi recovered his equilibrium when she moved up his body and was straddling him, bringing her hips into alignment with his and then in a single thrust, sank her body downward.

Involuntarily, Obi-Wan thrust upward to meet her movements.

She continued to ride him almost erratically, her head thrown back, her hands leveraged upon his chest, her breasts bobbing with her wild pouncing.

This was Padmé making love to him. He couldn't believe it. But it was nothing like what he had envisioned.

This wasn't making love. This was sex. Pure and simple. It wasn't what he wanted. 

"Padmé." He grunted as her weight came down upon him and his cock was pressed up inside the heat of her body. 

"Shut up Obi-Wan and fuck me."

No. This wasn't right.

"Padmé." Obi-Wan said a little more firmly this time, adding a strong grip upon her hips, immediately stilling her movements before he swiftly flipped her body off him.

Before she could move away, Obi-Wan scrambled up on top of her.

"Look at me."

Her eyes were squinted shut almost as if she were in pain, but upon his command, they slowly opened.

He stared at her silently until her gaze softened and she smiled. There was the woman he remembered. The compassionate and caring individual she was obviously trying to hide. 

It wasn't too late.

Obi-Wan cooled the fever of her passion down with a slow, lingering kiss, taking the time to relish the texture and line of her lips, suckling on the full bottom one, while his hands gently and reverently outlined the curve of her body from neck to hip.

Her flesh prickled following the wake of his caress, puckering a pink nipple beneath his touch, one that begged to be kissed.

The hand upon his neck pressed his head aggressively against her breast as Obi-Wan toyed with it, but he refused to do things her way. This may be the only time he was allowed to be with her, and by the Force, he was going to make it last.

With a frustrated grunt, Padmé's hand fell against the covered cot and Obi-Wan continued his tortuously slow explorations -- running his tongue between the valley of her breasts, across each individual rib, into the indentation of her navel, and down amidst the dewy, dark curls of her pubis. By the time he had reached her clitoris, she was writhing and trembling -- not with impatience this time, but with pleasure.

Her body went completely still when he brought the nub of her clit into his mouth and suckled it, gently pulled it with his teeth, and then caressed it with his tongue. But soon she was arching her hips up and grasping his head once more, pulling his mouth down to help her achieve orgasm.

He wasn't about to deny her of it, since there would be time for another.

When the spasms against his tongue had subsided, Obi-Wan made his way back up her body, leaving kisses along a pale abdomen, rosy nipples, and smooth neck, before finding his way to her mouth where he kissed her lazily.

"Now." He said with a voice low and husky. "Make love to me."

Her hooded gaze had evolved from aggressive seductress to sultry lover and the look she gave him was erotic, almost as much as when she lifted her legs to his back and guided his aching and neglected erection into her body.

At a much slower tempo, Obi-Wan set the pace, concentrating on the velvety touch of her vagina as it gripped him, sensing the occasional echoing throb of her inner muscles. He took the time to kiss her in between slow, methodic thrusts and caress her breasts, all the while never taking his eyes from her face.

When she came again, he came with her. Quietly, lovingly -- kissing her once more as he withdrew his spent organ and then pulled her into his arms afterward, gathering the Force around them for privacy and rest.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten **

Carefully, Padmé unwound herself from Obi-Wan's embrace, making sure his respirations were deep and even, his eye movements behind closed lids rhythmic, revealing he was in a dream cycle.

Was he dreaming of her?

It was a nice thought, but now that Padmé had secured herself out of his arms, reality began to sink in, and the mistake she had just made left a bitter taste in her mouth. She thought she could bed him and then go about her duty without any repercussions, but there had been something in his touch -- a warmth in his gaze that had melted the coldness of her heart. Much to her surprise and chagrin, Padmé found her prior determination becoming riddled with doubt.

He was a beautiful man, she noticed, easing herself down gently next to him while brushing the soft bangs of coppery hair away from his forehead. In response, his arm snaked out. Even in sleep he reached for her, but Padmé deterred the gesture by pressing his arm gently into the cushion beneath them.

She had had sex with other men, but nothing like this. Not even with her husband.

Anakin's attentions had been welcome during a difficult time in her life, and she had allowed his neediness and flattery to influence her mind. She should've known better. The signs were obvious. Their relationship was doomed from the start. If he couldn't treat his own Master with respect, why should she expect anything better?

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was different. He had never failed as a Jedi, had never failed her as a friend. He valued her opinions and listened to her advice. She was the one who had denied him the information he had sought -- the whereabouts of his apprentice, in order to put a stop to his descent into darkness. She was a fool to think she could persuade her husband otherwise, to convince him to leave everything behind and run away with her to Naboo.

Thank the stars Obi-Wan had followed her. If he hadn't snuck on board her ship headed to Mustafar, there was no telling what would've happened. The babies may not have survived. 

Obi-Wan had done nothing but take care of her since the day they had met, and in return, she had done nothing but blame him for Anakin's turn, and eventually paralyzed him for three days.

Her behavior was troubling in light of his consistent compassion. But all of his prior actions paled in comparison to the way he had touched her this evening.

Her own husband had never touched her so deeply -- not with his hands, nor his eyes, softly-spoken words, nor his heart.

Could Obi-Wan actually be in love with her? His touch would deem that to be true. It was so heartbreakingly honest, that Padmé decided if this was what real love felt like, she didn't want to lose it.

Damn him for complicating her life. When she had everything all figured out, he had to come in and mess it up.

No matter. She still had to follow through with her plan. She had a duty to perform. One she had trained six years for. Not only were the few remaining Jedi in the Galaxy, including Obi-Wan, depending upon her success, but so were millions of innocent beings who didn't deserve to suffer under the Emperor's rule or by the hand of his Sith apprentice.

When it was over, if she survived, maybe she could return to his arms, back to his gentle touch and passionate gaze. Perhaps they could have a life together. 

It was a nice thought, although she suspected it was a dream -- much like the one Obi-Wan was experiencing now.

He was surrounded by a lush, green world, listening to the relaxing sound of trickling waters, the melodic songs of birds. Padmé was with him. She wore a dress as yellow as the sun which shone on her face and reflected upon her bright smile. They spoke words of familiarity, friendship, and love. He took her hand as they walked along a large body of water and he was filled with such peace and happiness, such that he had never known.

When Obi-Wan felt a hand press against his chest, he struggled to remain in the dream. It was such a pleasant place, but then he remembered that the dream, in essence, was real. Padmé was here. They had made love. However, the remnants of his smile quickly vanished as the hand he grasped revealed webbing between the digits and the voice he was hearing call his name gurgled the last syllable in a vaguely familiar way. 

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to find Bant leaning over him and immediately flushed scarlet as he grabbed his clothing from off the floor to hide his nakedness.

"Bant!"

The Mon Calamarian chuckled when she heard the frantic tone of his voice and realized what he was doing.

"Obi-Wan, I'm blind, remember?"

The Jedi Master's head shot up as the blush radiated once more across his chest. "Oh yeah."

"And besides, it's not like you have anything I haven't seen before. Remember that time we went skinny dipping in the Room of a Thousand Fountains?"

"And Bruck stole our clothes? I remember." Obi-Wan's laughter sounded foreign to his own ears. It had been a long time since he had heard it. "Where's Padmé?" 

"She's gone. It's what I came to tell you. I bumped into her in the south passage near station alpha. She's heading up. I sensed confusion in her, Obi-Wan. What did you do?"

"Me? I didn't do anything! I have to go after her Bant." Obi-Wan proceeded to step into his unisuit.

"First, would you tell me exactly why the two of you are here?"

Obi-Wan slipped his arms through the sleeves of his construction uniform and fastened the zip closure. "She's been trained by Master Yoda to eliminate Darth Vader. Apparently, the two of them figured she was the only one who would be able to get close enough to harm him. He definitely will be surprised to see her. Probably about as much as I was. Which way is station alpha?"

"I'll show you." 

Obi-Wan suppressed a frown and sought his patience. Bant was only going to slow him down, but he took his friend's arm gratefully and filtered his frustrations into the Force.

Sooner than he had figured, they were both standing in a pale pool of light which was drifting down from an opening above their heads. Obi-Wan grasped the first rung of a ladder that led to it and turned his attention to Bant.

"Come see me when you're finished." She grinned broadly.

"I will. We both will." Obi-Wan clarified to match her positive attitude.

"May the Force be with you both."

"And you as well."

The Jedi Healer stood at the bottom of the steps until she could no longer hear the tapping of Obi-Wan's boots upon the metal rungs, and then turned to make her way back to the main gathering area. However, another set of footsteps approaching gave her pause, as well as the sound of a familiar voice.

"That's right. Valorum Avenue, 1800 block. I'll meet you at 0200 hours."

Bant gazed in the direction of the voice with deep suspicion. Why would Morah Vrax be giving the location of the street she had just sent Obi-Wan to over a comm?

As the footsteps drew nearer, the Jedi Healer sent out a probe and frowned deeply as she sensed the approaching woman's motives.

"I don't have time to talk Bant." Morah said flippantly as she headed toward the ladder. 

"Why are you afraid, Morah?"

The question stopped the red-headed leader in her tracks. "I'm afraid for Senator Amidala and Obi-Wan. I found out they've gone up-top. They shouldn't be up there."

"You're lying." The Jedi stated firmly, stepping toward the light which she could not see, confronting the nervousness she could sense coming off Morah in waves.

"Listen. What I do, I do for The Erased. For our community. We can't continue like this! We have no funding, no methods of operation, hardly any weapons. I'm tired of begging, of taking hand-outs. It's time we made a stand on our own."

A few more steps and Bant's fingers reached out to grasp onto the young woman's shoulder. "You turned Obi-Wan in for the bounty, didn't you?"

The accusation was made without anger, just a deep sadness and regret.

"I had to! You don't understand. I'm doing this for us!"

"No. You're doing this for yourself. For your own glory. What you don't understand is that Obi-Wan Kenobi doesn't have a selfish bone in his body. What he and Senator Amidala are doing is for the good of the entire Galaxy. They're going after Darth Vader single-handedly."

Morah stared hard at the sightless eyes of the Jedi before her, knowing that her comrade was incapable of lying.

She crumpled beneath the gaze and knowledge of what she had done.

"Oh no. I just talked to Boba Fett, the bounty hunter. He's waiting up-top to capture Obi-Wan. He'll probably kill him! He was going to share the bounty with us. I'm so sorry."

As a proud warrior of the Mandalorian, Morah Vrax stood tall and straightened her weaponry, her chin jutting out defiantly. It was her nature to speak with actions, not words.

"I'll stop him, Bant. Don't worry. I'll bring Obi-Wan and Senator Amidala back down here safely. You'll see!" 

Bant once again listened to the retreating sounds of footsteps going up the ladder leading to streets of Galactic City, nodding her head once in assurance.

"You'd better Morah, for your sake." 


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

The lower levels of Galactic City were no place for someone to walk alone, least of all a lady. Obi-Wan worried not only for Padmé's arrival to the Senate and what would happen when she confronted Vader, but he worried about her perilous journey there as well.

In his days at the Temple, the thousandth block was swarming with pleasure workers and citizens wandering in and out of countless clubs and antigrav bars -- all looking for a good time. Coruscant security had a helluva time keeping the peace down here back then. But now, it seemed to Obi-Wan things were much worse.

He could see no public officials anywhere.

Drunken orgies and brawls were occurring right out on the street. Obi-Wan stepped over an unconscious being lying in a pool of his own vomit, a testament to how deplorable Coruscant society had become.

Hands that clawed at him as he passed were effortlessly shoved away with a slight use of the Force, although the Jedi Master maintained his concentration on following the distinctive signature of the young senator he was trailing.

Which was why he didn't sense the blaster bolt that struck his shoulder from behind until it was too late.

The intoxicated crowd immediately panicked as Obi-Wan stumbled into the nearest bar, hissing in pain as he dove into his pack to retrieve his lightsaber. However, as his hand gripped the hilt, he changed his mind. He couldn't go swinging his 'saber around. It would be obvious he was a Jedi, and not for the first time in his life, would that be a bad thing.

If that happened, instead of one predator aiming at him, it could literally be hundreds -- regular Coruscant citizens trying their best to collect on a bounty which would guarantee a better life, or at least a steady high for a few tens.

Which was what his attacker was obviously trying to do. Or maybe Obi-Wan was a victim of mistaken identity, possibly having been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

To test his theory, the Jedi poked his head around the corner of the bar's entrance where he had taken shelter, barely missing a second bolt that screamed past his head, scarring the neon-lit doorframe on the opposite side.

Nope. He was definitely the target.

As a result of the attack, beings scattered to the rear of the club and Obi-Wan quickly made his way through them, shoving past their sweating bodies, not paying any attention to their complaints, their curses, or their threats. He emerged from the rear entrance and into the alley and switched clothes with a man who was passed out near a disposal bin. The stench of his new attire was overwhelming and reeked of bodily fluids, but it included a cloak, the tattered hood, which Obi-Wan pulled up over his head in order to conceal his appearance.

Whoever was firing at him knew who he was, or at least knew he was a Jedi.

Carefully, Obi-Wan made his way down the damp, dirty alleyway and peered out into the street. Countless beings still flowed away from the source of chaos, a single individual hovering several feet above street level, the jetpack strapped to his battle armored torso providing the ability to defy gravity.

In the attacker's hands was an EE-3 blaster rifle complete with flamethrower. But what Obi-Wan was more concerned with was what he held in the other. A thermal detonator was flung through the doorway where Obi-Wan had disappeared and all hell broke loose. 

He took advantage of the panicked crowd to maneuver his way away from the club, ticking off the seconds in his mind. He blended in as best he could, keeping his face hidden beneath the shroud until the blast from the grenade blew fire and debris out into the street, and the press of flung bodies struck him from behind, knocking him to the ground, the hood of his disguise falling away from his face. On impact with the street, the backpack fell open and his lightsaber came tumbling through the opening, clattering against the pavement in full view of those sprawled about him.

Slowly, the uninjured rose to their feet, staring through the dust and smoke at the rare and shining weapon.

"Jedi!" He heard someone scream and then groaned as another blaster bolt struck near his body. 

Rolling and grabbing his lightsaber at the same time, Obi-Wan sloughed off the robe and ignited the laser sword, deflecting the next two bolts aimed at him from the bounty hunter who flew his direction.

By then, Obi-Wan saw the hungry gaze of the crowd gathered about him, and noticed how they had begun to press forward obviously to get a better look at him. Obi-Wan felt like a piece of meat flung before a starving tusk-cat and backed away a step at a time until he came in contact with the cold, unyielding wall of a building.

He couldn't harm the citizens of Coruscant, no matter how badly they wished for his death. They were innocent, forced into their despicable predicaments by a bloodthirsty and tyrannical ruler. He wouldn't harm an innocent.

"He's mine." A gruff voice spoke from behind the crowd, which hesitantly parted to allow passage of the armored man who had initiated the attack. Obi-Wan recognized the armor as Mandalorian and had a sinking feeling that this was a Fett - an heir to one of the most ruthless bounty hunters in the Galaxy. "Stand back!" The command was authoritative, but the crowd was slow to disperse, each being obviously regretting the loss of their chance for a better life.

Obi-Wan weighed his options, which were decreasing by the second, sensing the follow-up attack a few milliseconds before it occurred. Only, this time, the shots being fired were aimed at the bounty hunter, and were a direct hit.

The armor clanked with a sickening thud as Fett's body hit the ground and slumped at the feet of the onlookers.

To Obi-Wan's surprise, Morah Vrax, leader of The Erased stepped forward from the shadows of the nearby building, her own EE-3 blaster held ready. She carefully stole up to his side, keeping her focus upon the uneasy beings once more gathering their courage.

"You take the right, I'll take the left."

"We can't attack innocent civilians!" Obi-Wan hissed back, although he held his lightsaber in a protective manner.

"Oh yeah, that's right. Jedi don't attack people trying to kill them. I forgot."

Her cynicism was laced with humor, and Obi-Wan smirked a half smile despite the gravity of their situation. Morah was indeed an interesting woman. He would've liked to have gotten to know her better.

"Then go. I'll cover you as long as I can."

"But…." Obi-Wan began to argue. She was outnumbered at least two-hundred to one.

"Run!" Her yelled command was punctuated by the firing of her weapon as two observers drew vibroshivs and rushed forward.

To Obi-Wan's dismay, he had no choice but to leave. Aided by the Force, he ran behind the building he had been leaning against and then leapt up onto the top of a tall wall. A glance behind him revealed the brave leader's struggle to keep the mob at bay, but her valiant efforts were soon in vain as she was overtaken by sheer number.

With a cringe of regret, Obi-Wan breathed a quick prayer to the Force to aid in her passing, and then allowed himself to drop off the wall to the relative safety on the other side.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Blinding co-dependency, nauseating fear, and pain. The bitter, stinging pain of betrayal. It was all of this that drove Padmé to relinquish hope, to wish for silence - for the eternal peace of sleep. Once she had assured her children with safe with Obi-Wan, she had simply given up.

Upon opening her eyes, Padmé was at first disappointed to discover she was still alive, and in the tiny room she lay, there was one creature. One small creature who had such an overwhelming presence it made his size deceptive.

It was Master Yoda who had saved her life, who put that small spark of hope in her mind just before she passed out on the delivery table. Instead of the sleep of death which she had initially longed for, a deep, Force-enhanced coma had taken over her body.

Her spirit was waiting. Waiting for the chance to redeem itself. The Jedi Master had promised he would help her, and so it began.

Years of not only physical training, but mental as well. Her midichlorian count was just enough to develop her talents in self defense and covert operations. She could detect the slightest movement, a secret presence without the use of her physical sight, and she could seemingly vanish in thin air with the use of agility and aided speed.

It had been an uphill struggle, but her motive all the while was to redeem herself. As a woman, as a friend, as a Senator. It was her fault that Anakin was who he was today. She had witnessed the evidence of his turn. She should've trusted in her instincts, told Obi-Wan what was going on.

But they hid their relationship, their struggles and his weaknesses from their friends, her family, her co-workers, but most damaging, from his Master.

Obi-Wan would've helped. She should've insisted, sought him out even without the knowledge of her husband.

And now it was her responsibility to do something about it. If she didn't, more innocents would suffer at his hand. Even her own children. Her children would face insurmountable odds, suffering, and possibly death by the hand of their own father.

Only she had the ability to approach him, to incapacitate him. His powers had grown strong in the Force, Yoda had told her. She must depend upon the element of surprise and rely upon his emotional attachment to her.

She was counting on that. He must still love her, or this was all for naught.

Her plan had been developing for months. Each minute detail with every possible modification sketched in her mind.

Which was why Padmé was so hesitant to accept Nate Kaldon's offer to help. Not that she didn't trust him. He was younger than she was, had worked alongside her in the senate for several years as an apprentice.

But something about the ease of her passage into the senate building prickled the hairs along the back of her neck.

She should've known better. Trusted her instincts.

They were met in the corridor on the floor just below the Emperor's main office, where Padmé believed Darth Vader to be. The Emperor himself had traveled to the Outer Rim to motivate the workers building his new battle station to increase their production rate, in his own special way.

Darth Vader was alone. In that wide, oval office. Flanked only by two red-robed executive guards.

Her plan of overtaking him was rather simple. To dispatch the guards and stun him with her presence, approach him and use her customized weapon to immobilize him. Then, would she take advantage of his paralyzed state to end the galaxy of the threat of him once and for all.

But before she and Nate stood a slight hitch to her plan - in the form of three clone troopers. Armed and asking questions.

They mustn't make a scene in the hallway, or else she would raise suspicion and Anakin would become aware of her presence much sooner than she had desired.

Perhaps she could talk their way out of this. The thought passed through her mind, however, her hope was soon squashed by an accusation coming from the Captain of the guard, as he ripped away the hood of the velvet robe Padmé had worn over her battlesuit, revealing her facial features to the helmeted clone.

"Senator Amidala. Lord Vader will be pleased to see you. Take them to the holding cells."

Padmé sat opposite the cubicle where the troopers had placed Nate. He looked worried. She tried to lift his confidence with a smile, but her own confidence was quickly waning as well, especially when they drug Nate out of his cell and took him away.

Hours passed slowly before the security guards returned to escort her upstairs as well. She hid her emotions as she saw the Royal Imperial guards drag away Nate's lifeless body. It did give her pause, however. She understood firsthand how he had died, how an invisible grip more than likely had stolen his life away.

Darth Vader had his back turned to her when she was aggressively brought into the room, the tight grips on her both her forearms bruisingly painful.

Padmé had heard stories of his appearance. Of how his final battle with Obi-Wan had damaged him so severely that he required a med suit. However, she really wasn't prepared for what she was seeing, or how very intimidating he was.

Her heart skipped a beat as he turned. The bitter taste of her own bile crept up into her throat as the stories of his ruthlessness flashed in her mind, but Padmé quickly returned to her scheme and put on her most innocent and charming face.

"Let her go."

The voice rasped behind the mask and the grip upon her body was immediately released.

"Leave us."

The command was immediately followed, and Padmé found herself alone, facing the most dangerous being in the Galaxy.

She twirled the golden ring upon her finger and slowly approached him, displaying her false sense of pleasure through a smile and unshed tears.

She only made it halfway across the room before the monster had her in his arms and was holding her tightly.

"Oh Padmé. You're alive!"

The words and the reunion could have been joyful in another life, but in the one she was currently living, they made her sick to her stomach.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Padmé had gone over this moment in her mind at least a thousand times. How she would act, what she would say. Master Yoda had trained in her Jedi calming techniques and honed her negotiation skills. But now that she found herself standing in the arms of the Sith, Padmé's mind clouded with fear and the panic of possible failure gripped her, making her words and skills seem highly inadequate.

But no matter her fear or her sudden lack of confidence, Padmé had no choice. So many counted on her. Her children.

Obi-Wan.

The sudden pleasant thoughts of the Jedi Master were immediately shoved from her mind in case Anakin could detect them, and Padmé once more schooled the nervous appearance of her face, satisfied with the reflection she could see in the plasteel lenses of Vader's mask. 

"Ani." She said in her sweetest voice, bringing her hands up around his neck -- the only part of his body not padded in the heavy black armor. "I've missed you."

"What are you doing here? Where have you been? I thought...I was told you were dead."

The voice was foreign to her ears, altered by a respirator, but the words were exactly what she had hoped for. 

"It's okay, Ani. I'm here now. I was sick for a while, but I'm better now, and I'm with you. We can finally be together." She swallowed the deceit which stuck in her throat. "Let me see you. I want to see you."

Slowly, Padmé brought her hands up to the underside ridge of his helmet, her eyes pleading, her heart pounding. For this to work, she had to touch him.

She kept her gaze and hands steady and with each passing second of hesitation, Padmé gained a bit of confidence. That is, until Vader's gloved hands reached up and removed her grasp. 

"I...can't."

"Please Ani, I want to see your face, look into your eyes. Just for a few seconds. After that, it doesn't matter. Your injuries, the med suit. I don't care. I just want to be with you."

Once again she pressed, reaching up once more, this time boldly around to release the lock on the back of his neck, only this time stopped by an abruptly created distance as Vader stepped back.

"What were you doing with Nate Kaldon, Padmé? He's been under suspicion for collaborating with a rebellious faction for some time. Thanks to his confession tonight, the location of the rebels will soon be revealed."

What? No. She didn't believe him. Nate would never betray The Erased. That's why Anakin had killed him. Surely, Nate had kept their secret, although Padme believed the Sith would've murdered the young man no matter what he said.

Panic once more threatened to send a tremor through her body and once more, Padme relied upon her training to maintain her composure.

"We met in the downstairs lobby on my way to you. I haven't seen him or spoken to him in years."

As Vader's hand reached out to run his digits through her dark tresses, Padmé could not stop the shiver that resulted from the unwanted touch. She disguised the tremor with desire and stepped closer to him. "Your touch feels so good, Ani. It's been too long. Please, let me see you."

The seconds that followed stretched out to an eternity as Anakin slowly peeled away the protective casing around his burned skull, and it was everything Padmé could do to stifle the gasp of horror from seeing him this way. This was the true test of her training. All of Yoda's hard work and dedication were coming to fruition in this moment.

The scowl of distaste that she so much wanted to bear was kept at bay as Padmé observed the man she had once loved. Disfiguring burns scarred his face. Patches of matted hair crossed his skull, with numerous bald spots in between. His eyes were fading from red to blue and so it was his eyes that Padmé focused on. It was the only respite she could find in the face of such a repelling sight.

With shaking digits, she lifted her hand to his face, placing them on the charred skin of his jawline. "What did Obi-Wan do to you?"

Much to Padmé's surprise, Anakin's eyes drifted shut and she could've sworn there was a tear forming there. And just for a second, she felt sorry for him.

But then Senator Organa's reports came back to her. How Anakin had single-handedly slaughtered every Jedi youngling in the Temple, some too young to even wield a lightsaber. How he had traveled across the Galaxy seeking out Force-sensitives and ordering not only their deaths, but deaths of their entire families. It was rumored that he was personally responsible for nearly one-million killings.

It was a shame.

A shame that Obi-Wan hadn't killed him on Mustafar when he had the chance.

Well, that chance was now hers.

With a small smile, Padmé expressed her heartfelt apology. "I'm so sorry," just before her thumb activated the small neurotransmitter encased in the side of the golden ring which lay against his cheek. The weapon activated spontaneously, sending the Sith Lord sprawling to the carpeted floor, his body spasming as the transmitted pulses of electrical activity interfered with his central nervous system.

As Anakin lay convulsing upon the floor, Padmé didn't take any chances, backing away to keep her distance as she removed the small vibroshiv from her boot, its jeweled hilt warming in her tight grasp.

After a moment, when she was sure the full force of the neurological weapon had taken effect, she kicked at his black boot, and after receiving no response, approached him carefully, glaring down at the monster who lay helpless at her feet.

"You murdering son-of-a-bitch. I've waited six years to do this -- to put the Galaxy out of its misery and make sure not one more Force-sensitive child is tortured and killed."

As she spoke, her venom flowing freely and she bent over and placed the shining blade to Vader's exposed neck. Unlike Obi-Wan, who had received just a taste of what this technologically advanced weapon could do, she had applied its full power upon the Sith Lord. However, also unlike Obi-Wan, Anakin's eyes remain open. He wasn't unconscious.

Good. She really wanted him to see this coming.

The steady pulse of blood along the thick vein lying just underneath his scarred jaw lifted her blade and she was transfixed upon its movement, until a voice shouting out from the doorway drew her attention away.

"Padme! Don't do this."

She didn't have to turn around to know who stood there. But this time, it wasn't Obi-Wan who held Anakin's life in her hands, it was her.

"He's unarmed and defenseless. What you're about to do is murder."

"What I'm about to do is a service to democracy!" Padmé argued back, the blade in her hand still rising and falling with the increasing pulse of the jugular vein.

"Padmé. This isn't the way. Jedi don't take life in cold blood."

"I'm not a Jedi in case you haven't noticed."

"Look at me."

Enraptured by the power she held in her hands, Padmé hadn't realized Obi-Wan had moved to stand just across from her, on the other side of Anakin's twitching body.

No. She didn't want to look at him. Those eyes of his would hold nothing but accusation and disappointment.

"Padmé, please."

Soft words spoken in such a gentle voice. A voice she remembered speaking to her in much the same way the night prior as they made love for the first time. A mesmerizing sound and one she found she could not deny.

Her eyes drifted up and what she thought she would discover in Obi-Wan's gaze was not present. Instead, she discovered a fragile hope. A hope that she was the same compassionate woman she once was. The one he loved. And that she might possibly love him in return.

And then wonderful, brave Obi-Wan said what she hadn't realized she had been waiting to hear all along.

"I love you. Don't do this. Come with me. Stay with me. Leave all this behind and just come with me." 

What sort of spell did he have on her? Just three simple words, but they meant so much more coming from him than from anyone else who had ever said them to her before. And as if the Galaxy was moving in slow motion, his hand stretched out to her and she placed the vibroshiv upon his open palm, receiving a most beautiful smile of relief in return. She had made Obi-Wan happy, and suddenly, that was the most important thing.

"Come."

The blade was put away and once again his hand reached out, only this time Padmé placed her own in it as she was led away. However, she stopped Obi-Wan just inside the doorway, a look of amazement crossing her face. Just moments ago, she had held the power of life in her hand. She could give it, or take it away. The power of this feeling though, was so much greater. It truly was inspiring. Almost as much as his lips, which parted readily as she applied her own against them.

"Just give me a moment. I want to say goodbye." 

Brows of worry lowered, but the grasp upon her hand was released as Padmé made her way back to Anakin, kneeling beside him and then leaning in and lowering her voice. What she had to say, she didn't wish for Obi-Wan to hear.

"I wanted to kill you, to hurt you like you've hurt me and others, but I believe this will hurt you more. I'm in love with Obi-Wan. Are you listening, Anakin? I love him so much that I can find no beginning or end to it, no depth, no heighth.

It has no measure, no definition, and is something you cannot possibly understand. You never have and you never will. But understand this. Already, I can feel his seed growing inside me, and I wanted you to know. The Jedi will be replenished, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Satisfied, Padmé rose, took one look at the fluttering of Anakin's lashes as he tried to blink away the horror of her revelation. 

Experiencing another brief pang of sympathy, she retrieved his ventilator hood and replaced it back upon his head, listening for a moment to the rasping and rapid intakes of his breath before turning away; leaving her past to cross the room and take the hand of her future. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen/Epilogue**

"I'm sending you the coordinates now. We'll be expecting your arrival within a ten-day. And Bail? Thanks so much for all your help." 

"It was my pleasure, Padme. And by the way, Mon Motha has convinced a few more senators to join in our efforts. They are rallying support and will be providing transportation to the underground factions."

"That's wonderful news. This is really happening, isn't it?"

"Thanks to you and Master Kenobi."

Padme blushed with the praise. Finally, after months of struggles and narrow escapes, they were joining forces and coming together to form a rebellion against the Empire. 

She took a deep breath to calm her excitement. It wasn't good for the baby.

"I'll have your children to you soon. Try not to worry."

"I appreciate everything you've done. Padme out."

The nervous anticipation she felt in having her children join her on Dagobah, as well as the preparations having begun for the relocation of The Erased, was immediately soothed by a gentle, massaging grip upon her shoulders. Padme melted into the touch, leaning her head back to receive a welcome and comforting kiss.

"Ouch!" She replied to Obi-Wan's surprise, then reached up to run her fingers over the new growth of his moustache and beard. "That's prickly."

"It'll soften up when it gets longer."

"I'm glad you decided to grow it back. It makes you look sexy."

"Think so?" Obi-Wan ran his own hand across the short whiskers, cocking one eyebrow in an attempt to appear seductive, obviously having the opposite desired effect as Padme began laughing at him.

The weight and discomfort of her nearly-term pregnancy was not going to stop Padme from being at the landing site of the transport which was arriving from Coruscant. Already, she had experienced her own joyful reunion, spending all of her spare time bonding with the twins; Luke and Leia. Now, it was Obi-Wan's turn.

While Master Yoda had taken creche duty, watching over the young ones in the simple bark and moss huts they had constructed at the edge of the marshlands, Padme and Obi-Wan waited and watched as descent thrusters fired, scattering the native birds and amphibious creatures. The mist parted to allow the vehicle to pass through the densely fogged atmosphere, finally touching down upon moist soil.

Beings of various generations and abilities stepped out of the transport, observing their surroundings and talking amongst themselves, but it was a single female whom Padme searched for.

Feeling the grip upon her hand slip away, she realized Obi-Wan apparently had seen her first.

The warmth of the friendly reunion between the two Jedi flooded Padme's soul as she watched Bant Eerin and Obi-Wan embrace. Almost immediately, an arm opened and reached out to her, inviting Padme into the circle, and she joined her husband eagerly, finding great comfort in his and Bant's camaraderie.

On Dagobah, they would have peace and security, hiding beneath cloud cover and moisture so dense it interfered with sweep sensors. They would not be discovered.

At least not for a while.

In these days, they would reinforce their efforts until at last when the time was right, they would strike out against the evil that had taken over the Galaxy, and they would do it together.

But until that time, and for the first time in her life, Padme Amidala would seek to restore democracy while basking in the unconditional love of her children and husband.

Truly, something worth fighting for.

-End-

A/N: I greatly appreciate the feedback. If you enjoyed the story, please tell me so. If you didn't -- tell me that too! I'm a big girl, I can take it.


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